Faceless
by Blank Paper
Summary: It is hard to stand beside the person you cannot have, it is even harder to let them go. But having to say goodbye with a happy face and convincing tone is the hardest of them all. Yuuram without a happy end. Read and review. Complete.


**Summary:**  
It is hard to stand beside the person you cannot have, it is even harder to let them go. But having to say goodbye with a happy face and convincing tone is the hardest of them all. Yuuram without a happy end. Read and review. Complete.

**Author's Notes:  
**Due to lack of time, I am taking 777th's storyline slow and easy—I don't want to mess it up for everyone. So, for those people waiting for the next chapter, for now, I would love for you to read this humble oneshot.

**Warning/s and Note/s:**

- Out of character tendencies.

- Oncoming errors. Feel free to point out!

- The dreaded original, nameless, character that wrecks everything.

**Disclaimer:**  
Me? Own them? Right.

* * *

**Faceless**

Wolfram stood in the corner—his eyes, dead cold emerald green, watched as his supposed fiancé flirted happily with a human. A woman from another nation, to be exact, who was merely said to be a month's visitor for peace negotiations, then again—what kind of visitor creates a one-sided relationship with a king who was known to be engaged?

Thus, to Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld, she was nothing but an _intruder_. Someone who just came out of no where to ruin his relationship with the double black monarch. But, how does one intrude a relationship when there was hopelessly none from the very start?

A frown set upon the prince's charming face as he continued to silently watch the romance blooming as they playfully chased each other around the courtyard fountain. They were in love; however they were quite secretive about it.

Yet the said fire prince was not stupid, he was anything but. He saw the stolen glances, he saw the sweetened smiles and, worst of all, the light kiss the two had shared when they hid from everyone else during the 'tour' that Yuuri kept insisting upon.

At that point, Wolfram's whole world fell apart just as his heart shattered into tiny little pieces, broken way beyond repair. He wanted to scream at the king back then—he planned to do so, but later that same day, he met with Yuuri's smile. He recalled, it was the gentle smile that matched the fulfillment within his eyes—an expression he never got. And all the more, the blond's heart broke into even littler pieces (with Yuuri obliviously trampling on the shards) as he went numb inside. No longer could he find the energy to yell nor to move. He could not take away the happiness that had shown brightly within the latter's face.

It was too pure.

Too blissful.

When exactly did the blond, known as the _Selfish Loafer_, become selfless? Lord von Bielefeld did not know—no one knew. Heck, no one even took note of his silence for the next days that came, of course, until both Conrad and Gwendal noticed the drastic change in their little brother, especially when it seemed like he was slowly letting the king go on his own freewill, especially when he ceased to throw temper tantrums when Yuuri and the human visitor interacted and _especially_ when, little by little, the blond purposely disappeared from the scenes… even though he had yet to leave.

Wolfram sighed, remembering that one, lone time that Conrad actually confronted him—asking him if there had been anything wrong. By gods, all the fire mazoku wanted to do during those hours was to tell the whole truth. To accuse Yuuri of being the cheater he truly was. But again, the blond could not. He held back—because at the depths of his mind, the double black's smile was engraved. The blond ended up insisting that he was tired. Even if Conrad did not believe the excuse.

"You are such a wimp." The prince whispered, addressing it more likely to thin air while the secret lovers continued to be oblivious of his presence. Laughing the moments away as their heart fluttered—and Wolfram's completely pounded into spectacles of dust, left to be blown away by the wind.

Though, it had not mattered—not to the intruder, not to Yuuri, and no longer to Wolfram. Because, finally, His Highness von Bielefeld learned the true meaning of love and being in it—that most of the times, one had to let go in order for the other to be pleased. That he had to give without expecting anything in return. And that he needed to be strong for the coming farewells—take it with a proud smile, even when it meant forcing one onto his face.

"You can do this." The blond sighed to himself as his foot took one slow step into the courtyard and out of the covered space he was hiding behind. "Ask for his time, one last time to talk, show him how much you've grown." He recited, aligning his thoughts. "Show him a smile, even if it hurts. Show him you are going to be happy for him." Wolfram continued with every step. "Even if it hurts, Wolfram von Bielefeld, you have to let him go."

His footsteps tapped lightly on the ground, way too lightly—when in fact, the whole of his body felt heavier than before. With each and every tap getting a bit harder just as the wind started to blow the shattered dust-remnants of his heart, the prince went even number than before. And he was thankful for such occurrence. At least, by the time he got to the king and his would-be new fiancé, he could talk straight into their faces.

He could lie without anything holding him back.

He could lie to Yuuri.

He could lie to himself.

And for what seemed like forever, the mazoku arrived in front of the king who stood a few feet away from the fountain and a few centimeters apart from the intrude—_human_. They were still and stiff, as if they were afraid that their romance had been discovered, by the supposed legitimate fiancé, nonetheless.

If they only knew.

Or if they only paid attention, they would have known from the very beginning.

Wolfram composed himself, his eyes meeting with the woman's. "Would you mind if I talked to Yuuri for a while?" _Please. _The blond quietly asked with his pleading tone hidden behind a mask. His unusual nonchalance—very much intimidating.

"A—alright." The lass politely nodded, casting a loving (flirtatious) gaze towards the double black before leaving the premises.

Then they were alone. Yuuri and Wolfram. The king and himself, in silence—words were yet to be uttered as green eyes found themselves lost into deep, glistening black. The silence was more than deafening.

"Uh, what did you want to talk about?" The monarch asked as if there was no problem in the world.

Still, the prince was silent.

"Wolf?"

The blond felt as if he wished to throw up.

"Wolfram?"

Again, nothing—at that point every one of the fire wielder's emotions came back, overcoming the numb feeling that swallowed him whole. And also overcoming the earlier bravery he had found. Lord von Bielefeld could not do it. He could not simply state that he wanted to renounce their engagement… not when there were words (feelings) that were needed to be told. Moreover, he could not find himself looking into the depths of the king's eyes, nor could he bear looking towards the sixteen year old boy's face.

…because it drove the eighty-two year old mazoku to, instead of letting go, stare and wonder when will his soon-to-be ex-fiancé shoot him an expression just like he shot the other woman.

_I guess, I am left with false high hopes._

"Hey, Wolf…?" Yuuri blinked as Wolfram came up, past him.

Back-to-back, the prince sighed as he faced the fountain and not the king behind him. "Can we stay like this?"

"Like what—"

"—do not turn your head, you wimp!" The blond testily ordered.

"Geez," The king obviously snorted, complying. "What for, anyway?"

"Because…" _Looking at you already hurts. _Wolfram whispered; his gaze cast down to the crystalline waters before him. "Looking at you somehow, in a very vague way, gives me a reason to hold on."

"…what?"

"You're such a cheater, you know that?" The fire prince exhaustedly huffed—his reflection, staring intently back at him with so much disappointment. "However, I do applaud you for thinking about my feelings, no; wait… let me rephrase that." A quiet pause took its place as Wolfram realized that the tables were turned. That he was the wimp at the moment just because he could not force himself to lie and fake a smile. "You are an idiot and yet I don't know why I keep up with you. You could have told me, or even Conrad, at the very least!"

"W—what are you talking about?"

"Do not dare to act innocent, Yuuri Shibuya. I know about your little escapades with that trait—… that woman." The blond snarled just when the king gasped. "You could have done it freely, you know. If you just told—I would never stop you from renouncing our engagement."

"Wolf—"

"—Frankly, I am getting tired of this charade. I am tired of chasing after you and I am pretty sure that you are sick of me accusing you. We both deserve better than this, Yuuri. Both of us. However I will not pretend that this is not a heavy blow for me, but I think this is for the best."

Yuuri's eyes widened, Wolfram could easily tell the same way he guessed that the double black whipped his head to meet nothing but his ex-fiancé's back still turned. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. She is a nice woman, and Greta gets along with her." The mazoku shut his eyes, engulfing his vision in darkness. "She loves you and you love her back, your eyes show it." He shrugged. "Do not worry about me, Yuuri. I… will find someone one day."_ But I will never find anyone like you._

"I… I don't know what to say." The monarch audibly whispered as his eyes still stared at Wolframs back. "T—thank you."

"I deserve no gratitude. I am not doing this for you. Your Majesty."_ I lied, at least notice that._

"You don't have to call me that." Yuuri lightly stated—whether he was oblivious of his companion's emotional turmoil or not, was beyond Wolfram's knowledge. "Call me by my name… we're still friends, anyway. I mean. I hope we are."

_Friends? You really torment me, my king. _"If you say so." Lord von Bielefeld replied, slowly opening his eyes back to his reflection—tiny beads of tears formed on the corners of his eyes. "Can I ask one favor of you?"

"…alright."

"Be happy."

"Wolfram…"

"Now go," The prince imperatively declared (pleaded). "It is rude to keep a lady waiting." _And hoping._

From there, Wolfram knew the young king was relieved, basing from the way the double black had blissfully replied with his short and hurried words of thanks as he ran away and into the castle—

…carelessly leaving the fire wielder alone as he continued to cast his gaze down upon his reflection and the ripples (his tears) that dropped heavily onto it, destroying the earlier serenity of the fountain waters.

"I love you." Wolfram von Bielefeld breathed through his shaky breaths, even when there was no Yuuri to hear. "I love you so much."

_In their relationship, one heart breaks when the other's heart flutters for another person._

**The End**


End file.
